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I was pretty sure my vision went white for a second there.
Shock and need and the whole forbidden aspect just mingled together into this heady cocktail that made me instantly drunk.
No.
Not just drunk.
Plastered.
Fucking obliterated.
So out of it that any thoughts to objection flew right out of my head.
Then all there was… was him.
His tongue sliding up my cleft and working my clit with the familiarity of hundreds of times before, with the perfect pressure and the exact right movements.
I swear my thighs started to shake almost instantly.
Feeling it, Valen’s hand pressed to my belly, pushing me back a step until my back met the cold wall of the shower, letting it hold me up as he continued to work me.
Logically, I knew I needed to push him away. I knew I was going to lose the upper hand. Or whatever ground I had to stand on.
I couldn’t claim to hate him when I’d allowed him to go down on me, could I?
I maybe could have excused sex. I mean, a good, solid hatefuck would be easy to explain away.
But this?
Even as I thought that, though, he was driving me up, pushing me right to that edge.
His fingers moved between us, slipping inside of me. As my walls tightened around him, he let out a growl of approval around my clit, something that damn near shattered me right then and there.
But then his fingers started to thrust as his lips and tongue kept up the perfect pace and pressure.
My hand slapped down on the back of his neck, fingernails digging crescents into his skin as he got me closer and closer, as I felt the forbidden orgasm slam through my system, washing away anything but the pleasure.
For a whole, oh, two minutes tops.
Then it all came crashing back.
As if sensing it, when he pulled back to look up at me, his eyes were heated, sure, but also triumphant.
Because he’d won.
And he knew it.
Damnit.
Damnit.
“I hope you enjoyed that,” I told him as I pulled my leg down, finding myself almost glad for the pain from my wounds because they steeled my reserve and made my words come out with a bit of a bite. “Because it is never going to happen again,” I added, pushing him back a step.
He recovered before he landed on his ass in the shower, and I reached for the towel he had draped over his other shoulder, wrapping it around myself, and walking away with as much dignity as I could muster with my weak knees and sore thigh and ass.
As I grabbed my clothes and got dressed, I kept reminding my needy body the same words I told him until they became a mantra.
Until Ialmostbelieved them.
That is never going to happen again.
